Dye that Damn Streak!
by demonspitfire
Summary: Mrs. Lovett is fed up with a certain demon barber's hair colour...


_**Dye that Damn Streak!**_

Part I: It Starts…

"Mr. T?"

Silence…nothing new, right? Eleanor Lovett surmised as her attempted (and failed) "starting-to-ask-a-question" voice was shot down by Sweeney Todd and his ever impregnable silence.

"Mr. _Todd_?" Mrs. Lovett droned on.

He was standing by that damn window, an arm propped up against the pane whilst his other drooped aimlessly at his side, dark, coal eyes penetrating whatever happened to by walking along the sidewalk below as his stare-down with the world continued.

"_What_?" Mr. Todd spat.

Mrs. Lovett sat down the tray that contained Mr. Todd's breakfast.

"'Ow come you've got that white streak in ya 'air?"

Sweeney was instantly taken aback.

"What's wrong with my hair?" He sounded offended. Nellie snorted at his sudden care for appearance.

"Well, why's it ya gots that white in it? And I don't remember ya 'aving black 'air fifteen years ago."

He twirled around to face her. "My _'air_ is perfectly the same…just a bit changed is all, as have I. Now go away and tend to the corpses." He still sounded offended much to Nellie's delight: she smiled immensely.

"I did that yester-night, love. And it's not the "same"…or else we's wouldn't be 'aving this conversation."

"And this conversation is over!" He yelled, obviously getting annoyed (or even _more_ annoyed to be more precise) with her presence, grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her out the door.

Part II: A Stroll…

It was now Sunday, the day right after Nellie had her little excursion with Mr. Todd about his streak. And now, she was hell-bent on ridding herself of it. Yes. Nellie Lovett deemed herself worthy of murdering that damn streak. His hair would be a healthy black with her help. But now, it was a matter of how to procure said murder−surely Sweeney Todd would not favor her doing such a thing to his apparently precious hair.

"Conceited man..." Nellie mumbled to herself as she drew her shawl tighter around her on this cool and dreary November night. Luckily, it hadn't started to snow. She was on her way to the apothecary. There, she would receive the necessary herbs and concoctions and what have you to produce a black dye that would match Mr. Todd's already blackened hair.

Now getting him to _willingly_ dye that damn streak would be another matter altogether…

Part III: Oops…

Sweeney sat slumped in his barber chair on that Sunday night. It was a rather slow day considering he was victim…er…customer-less. He was starting to nod off when he heard his door open, signaling him with the jingle. Realizing it could only be Mrs. Lovett at this hour, and not wishing of course to hear her endless drabbles of complete and utter nonsense tonight, Sweeney instantly feigned sleeping, letting his head droop on his neck and arms slumped on either side of the chair.

"Oh goodie! The bloody git's asleep!" Mrs. Lovett squealed in a meaningless whisper. Mr. Todd inwardly growled and cursed her. _I'm _not_ a git…bloody, bitchy big mouth._ Although fuming at her indirect name-calling, Mr. Todd remained idle.

Mrs. Lovett calmly closed the door as if not to wake the "sleeping" barber. She went over to his armoire and set something down with a CLINK, or so Mr. Todd presumed. He then heard her pouring something into presumably one of his porcelain lather bowls. Sweeney could only just assume what Mrs. Lovett was doing due to the fact she was being as quiet as the noisy and loud baker could possibly be. Then, he heard what he guessed was her mixing said something with probably his lathering brush. _Damn woman…now I'm going to have to clean whatever the ruddy hell she is doing! _

"Finished!" He heard her vain whisper. Mrs. Lovett began walking over to Sweeney in his chair. She came to halt at the back of it. He heard another mixing…or actually, lathering of the brush in the bowl. What was she going to do? Shave him? He snorted.

Mrs. Lovett stopped her mixing and rapidly took a step back.

In truth, even though she was completely sure of her plan to dye that damn streak, Nellie was still afraid of other variables: for example, Sweeney Todd waking up in midst of her plan. Lord only knows what he would do then; well actually, Nellie had a sure-fire idea of exactly what…but moving on. She stepped forward again deeming it as Mr. Todd snoring or whatever.

"Alright. Time to _dye_, damn streak!"

Mrs. Lovett raised the lather brush now coated in a slick, runny, black liquid and was just about to brush it through Mr. Todd's white streak when…

"AHHHHH!"

"And what exactly do you think you're _doing_, Mrs. Lovett?"

Sweeney somehow sensed what was going to happen to him when he took whiff of her slimy concoction and swiftly grabbed her wrist with the brush. Sweeney stood in front of her now behind the barber's chair.

Nellie tried to yank her wrist out of his vice lock.

"Do explain yourself, my pet," he didn't sound angry or indifferent. In fact, Nellie would say he sounded rather intrigued or perhaps even amused.

"Well, I can…_show_ ya," she attempted to be flirtatious or even seductive to get Mr. Todd to possibly lower his guard even for a split second and she could make her move in that miniscule gap of time.

"_Tell_ me." Didn't work…

She vigorously flicked the wrist with the brush. Black dye flickered itself on Mr. Todd's face (mind you, a few specks did hit his white streak, but not nearly enough to make it black). His mouth also happened to be open.

"You shall regret everything from here on out, Eleanor Lovett," Sweeney Todd spat out some spit laced with dye.

"No I won't," she smirked. She flicked it again. He lunged forwards at her, causing the porcelain bowl in Mrs. Lovett's other hand to fall all down her front and up onto her face…and some of her own hair.

It left a rather profusely large spill in the middle of the barbershop floor, leaking and intertwining its way through the dusty floor boards (and probably seeping its way through the trap door and into the bake house below).

"Aha, my dear: willing to do anything to get my hair all black now, are you?" Mr. Todd played coy as he straddled Mrs. Lovett with a leg on either side of her lower waist, pinning her back to the floor. He started to fiddle with her skirts as his hands slid up and down her thighs and even managed to elicit a moan from her. He then lowered himself on top of her, running his hands across her even-more-than-exposed-today chest. He settled himself between her spread legs and brought his mouth to latch itself onto her neck and began nibbling away. Sweeney then muffled into her ear:

"Anything?" he repeated.

"Perhaps…"

He grinned wickedly against the flesh of her neck.

"Then, by all means, my dear Mrs. Lovett."

And within a flash, Sweeney moved his mouth to Nellie's, tongue and all gliding its way in and out and around her mouth. Then, back to her neck again and even much further down.

He then moved his hands back down her bodice, all the while ensuring to roughly press against her breasts as they ventured back underneath her massive skirts. But before Sweeney got there, he made a stop at the holster on his belt. He grabbed his razor.

Never a man of much patience, Sweeney had taken hold of his precious so he wouldn't have to face the arduous task of untying laces of a corset or even those of bloomers later on that night…and ripping apart Mrs. Lovett's dress would surely bring much satisfaction to him due to her inevitable dissatisfaction with another ruined dress…

His hands were currently underneath her skirts and with the one the razor was in, he nicked at her undergarments and then threw them across the room…_Won't be needing those_…He smirked.

"Don't ya dare…" Nellie pressed on as Sweeney hovered his razor above her stomach. He merely laughed as he tucked the razor under her corset's laces and pulled forward, enjoying immensely the irate look on her face and the lovely sound it made when it broke away.

"I _dared_."

"You're paying for another corset and dress then, Mr. T."

"Don't I always, Mrs. L?"

Nellie quickly grasped the razor out of Sweeney's hand, nicking herself a bit but alas, there was more…_pressing_…_things_…at the moment. She positioned in front of Mr. Todd, like he had done only I moment before. She slowly dragged it down is vest as the buttons popped out and it fell off his back and onto the floor behind him. Fortunately, she had pressed to hard and Sweeney's white shirt was ripped down the front as well. He took the liberty to remove it completely.

"You can pay for _that_ now."

"Don't I always, love?"

"You will _now_."

With that, Sweeney guided her razor hand downwards cut off his pinstriped pants from the front. She then dropped the razor to move her hands through his messy (and still partially white) hair. _Not for long_…

His mouth and tongue found hers again in the now darkened shop, obviously indicating how late (or early?) it now was. Eventually and inevitably, he made his way inside of her, causing moans and groans to escape from both their overacting mouths…but again, that's beside the point.

The _point_ (pun only slightly intended) being that Nellie's hands drifted unnoticed by Sweeney to the bowl that _laid_ next to her side. She quickly ran them through it to smother them in the dye and then hastily brought them back to Mr. Todd's hair…and of course over and in that damn streak.

_Victory_…

Meanwhile, Sweeney apparently had similar thoughts as he never once ceased his rather painful (well, not like Lovett complained) thrusts. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Lovett, probably merely believing it just to be the way he was having his way with her, Nellie was being scooted up across the floor….her hair smearing into the black dye that was positioned right above her head. Sweeney then brought his hands up to run through her hair…and to hastily mix it with that damn dye.

And that was the price to pay for managing to finally dye that damn streak: Nellie Lovett's precious red locks were now turned a murky black, and would remain that way for a good six plus weeks until the dye washed out. She did get _something_ out of her not-so-failed plan: and Lord was it…heavenly.

_Who would've thought it had been all thanks to that damn streak?_

_**End.**_

* * *

So, first of, I actually got this idea from The Nanny...just a bit. Fran hates the little grey in Maxwell's hair and always talks about dying it. I have always been reminded of Sweeney Todd whenever I watch The Nanny and vice versa when I watch Sweeney Todd just because of the two guys' similar hair colour. And there you have it! This is also my first attempt at M rated sex scenes...hmmmm...how'd I do? Was it as good for me as it was for you? Lol. And for those of you who may know my other work _Try to Forget, Try to Forgive_ (or whatever the fuck I titled it), I have not forgotten about that; I merely need time to make it fully awesome! and shit like that. This piece was just practice at writing again and sort of a warm up before an essay for a final. Yay...Thanks for reading! Hopefully, it didn't suck...heheheh...that's what she said! Review me maybe? Jk, do what you will.


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